


Talk To Me

by SYNdicate930



Series: HyungWonho one shots [3]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Language Barrier, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SYNdicate930/pseuds/SYNdicate930
Summary: In which Hyungwon speaks English, and Hoseok should learn to pay attention to how people word things.“Hyungwon, if you think Hoseok’s muscles are big, you should check out his massive dick -”Hoseok elbows Minhyuk. “Quit it! Even if he can’t understand Korean, that doesn’t mean everyone else here can’t.”“Dick? Did someone say dick?” Changkyun leans over the table, eyes flickering between both men. By nature, inappropriate discussions attract his juvenile sense of humor without fail.“I was just telling Hyungwon here how big Hoseok’s is.”  Replies Minhyuk.Changkyun blinks. “What?”“I'm kidding. You know, because Hyungwon speaks English, right?”Changkyun looks at Hyungwon, who blinks at him in return, the latter visibly confused as his younger cousin shakes his head, seemingly coming to his senses. “Yeah, you’re right. Hyungwon speaks English.”
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho
Series: HyungWonho one shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1317002
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who got drunk and decided to write something. Again.

**Saturday, September 28, 22:09**

At twenty-six years old, Hoseok, as far as he - or anyone else - is aware, has yet to encounter anyone as enchanting to the senses as the young man who enters the bar. The trio of rounded bronze bells hung by the heavy door chime against the dingy wood, a light harmony, genteel soprano, drowned out in the surrounding chit chat and clambering of staff busy at work. 

With long slender legs accentuated wondrously by black skinny jeans (oh - and the rips that litter the fabric at his thighs and expose his knees! Hoseok is an absolute _sucker_ for a man in ripped jeans), a boxy, thinly striped black and white turtleneck, and pristine white sneakers, a young man ambles into the pub, sifting through the patrons which fill the space with his eyes, phone in one hand, the other rearranging his bangs over his forehead sheepishly. His deep cocoa eyes are glimmer curiously as he scans each table, the lids hooded and symmetrical, his flushed cheeks and dark locks accentuate the paleness of his face. It’s as if he apparated from between the pages of the romance manga he read back in high school, reminiscent of the princely young men Hoseok always dreamed of. 

“Do you see that guy?” The question glides through Hoseok’s lips without realization, not until it’s too late. He feels a sense of safety when there is no answer, and he allows his shoulders to drop in slight relief. 

“Who?” Hyunwoo follows Hoseok’s stare curiously, his reaction a mere tenth in comparison to the latter’s. He regards the young man apathetically, before nodding his head in open approval. “He looks like a model.” 

The compliment, though genuine, is delivered with a degree of nonpartisan apathy expected of Hyunwoo, whose deadpan demeanor is a source of great humor to Hoseok. 

“Right?” Hoseok bites his lower lip. “He’s _really_ cute.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, do you?” 

“Nope, I thought you did.” 

“That’s Chae Hyungwon.” Interrupts Minhyuk, freshly-poured beer in hand, donning a gaudy neon t-shirt and impish grin, to Hoseok’s left. Even his name is something of a piece of art, winsome and lovely; sweet and sugary, like cotton candy on his tongue as he mouths each marvelous syllable. 

_Chae Hyungwon._

“Hoseok thinks he’s really cute.” Adds Hyunwoo with a yawn. Hoseok slaps his arm benignly with the back of his hand, to which the other man recoils slightly. “What? That’s what you said.”

“Do you know him?” Hoseok asks Minhyuk.

An innately playfully mischievous spirit, poking his nose where it is unwelcomed, Minhyuk returns Hoseok and Hyunwoo’s stares with a wide, knowing smile, stretching seemingly from ear to ear. With his hair styled into perfected disarray, two jet black locks, one on either side of his, at times, seemingly vacant head, furl into devilish horns, his eyes glossed over in a raffish expression. “He’s Changkyun’s cousin. From his mom’s side.” 

_Cousin?_

Hoseok is so bewildered by the response, the young man nearly chokes as he takes a hearty swig of his pint of beer, coughing into his sleeve, praying he isn’t noticed in a less than preferred state of hacking and decreasing sobriety. Hyunwoo pats his back, the palm of his hand warm against Hoseok’s scapula. Upon an expeditious recovery, Hoseok inquires between bouts of shallow coughing, “You’re lying. If he’s really Changkyun’s cousin, why haven’t we never met him before?” 

“He moved here from America. From what I’ve heard, he just graduated med school overseas or something like that - and apparently with honors, too. The guy is an absolute genius.” Shrugs Minhyuk, tilting his head in recollection. Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. _Good looking_ and _smart -_ Hoseok is thoroughly impressed. “His English is absolutely _amazing_ . I went with Changkyun to pick him up at the airport a few days ago, and had _no_ idea what the hell they were talking about the entire ride back.” 

“Does he speak English fluently?” Hyunwoo questions curiously. 

“ _Yes_.” Minhyuk answers in English, his accent startlingly appalling for something as clear cut as a one syllable word. Hyunwoo hears this, and heaves a hearty laugh into his drink before chugging the remainder of his beer. Like much of his personality, Minhyuk’s English is so bad, it’s good - similar to his cooking, artistic ability, and eye for fashion. “You can tell right away that he was born overseas.”

Just as Minhyuk is about to continue, Hyungwon notices Changkyun from across the bar, who waves at him, beckoning the young man to join the group. Hyungwon darts over, weaving his way around full tables and staff with full trays of food and drink, his lithe composition allowing him to slither through with minimal difficulty.

With open arms, Changkyun embraces his cousin excitedly, wrapping his arms around the young man and holding him so tightly, Hoseok thinks he may very well snap Hyungwon in half if he is not cautious. Hyungwon is a rather skinny fellow, even down to his slender fingers, elegantly stretched in length reminiscent to those of a seasoned pianist, which he runs through his jet black locks as Changkyun pulls away. It’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice Hyungwon’s delicate frame, even beneath his oversize turtleneck; if anything, the loose manner in which the shirt drapes over his body further exaggerates his willowy composition. 

“ _Hey, dude, how’s it going? We’ve been waiting for you?_ ” In spite of how often he’s listened to Changkyun speak in English before, Hoseok still finds himself taken aback at his friend’s distinctive voice and inflection when switching over. To Hoseok, Changkyun is more colorful in English, even down to his hand gestures and facial expressions; it’s as if something which otherwise lies predominantly dormant is brought to life. Like a coffee with two extra sugars, or newly dyed hair, when the pigment is still vibrant and fresh, before losing its saturation after the first few washes. “ _Did you get lost on the way?_ ” 

“ _Getting here was actually as easy as you said it would be. To be honest_ _I’m still kind of jetlagged, so I took a nap but overslept. I hope you weren’t waiting too long_.” Answers Hyungwon bashfully. 

_“Typical Hyungwon.”_

_“What can I say? The time difference between California and Seoul is massive.”_

Changkyun signals over a waitress as she does her rounds, ordering more pitchers of beer while Hyungwon settles into the chair beside him. Hoseok does his best not to stare, which proves horrendously troublesome; Hyungwon is far too handsome not to be given his undivided, savagely besotted, attention. He comes across a happy medium, catching quick, wordless periphery glimpses as he converses and drinks, praying he appears significantly more casual than he does not feel. The added weight of numerous beers does nothing to assist in Hoseok’s wandering eyes as he endeavors to engage in discussions with Kihyun about work, and his most recent ventures into teaching elementary school children the rudiments of reading and writing music. It is not long before Kihyun’s abysmal tolerance bests his attempts to counter it with snacks and copious glasses of lukewarm water, causing the young man to rush to the men’s room followed by a concerned, yet equally intoxicated, Hyunwoo. 

Hoseok sees Kihyun enter the door on the left. A few steps behind, Hoseok cringes as he watches Hyunwoo stumble through the door on the right, before dashing out, wide-eyed and red-faced, to join Kihyun in the other restroom. How he is capable of misreading - or totally _missing_ \- the signage on the bathroom doors is beyond Hoseok. 

“Hey, just a word of advice while Kihyun and Hyunwoo are in the washroom, you should stop staring at Hyungwon. I feel you, he’s good looking, but you’re being _too_ obvious.” Minhyuk comments, turned in his seat to face Hoseok.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve been checking him out all night.” Hoseok glances down the table, meeting Hyungwon’s unassuming stare. “You’re practically eye-fucking him at this point.” 

“Minhyuk -”

“You might as well just bend him over the table and -”

“Shut up -”

“What?” Hoseok almost slaps a hand over Minhyuk’s loud mouth if it were not for what he says next, “He speaks English. Check this out.”

“No, stop. What are you doing?” 

It’s too late. 

“Yo, Hoseok here thinks you're super hot.” Minhyuk hollers at Hyungwon, who, to Hoseok’s surprise, cocks his head to the right, furrowing his brows as if perplexed. His round eyes dart towards Hoseok, who, thoroughly embarrassed, averts his stare to his pint of beer. He pauses briefly to evaluate the situation, realizing immediately that, since arriving at their table, Hyungwon has yet to speak a word. A short occasional exchange between Hyungwon and Changkyun is only natural between relatives, but not once has Hyungwon joined in group conversation, or even uttered a single word in Korean. Hoseok watches through the corner of his eye as Minhyuk continues, “Hyungwon, if you think Hoseok’s muscles are big, you should check out his massive dick -”

Hoseok elbows Minhyuk. “Quit it! Even if he can’t understand Korean, that doesn’t mean everyone else here can’t.” 

“Dick? Did someone say dick?” Changkyun leans over the table, eyes flickering between both men. By nature, inappropriate discussions attract his juvenile sense of humor without fail. 

“I was just telling Hyungwon here how big Hoseok’s is.” Replies Minhyuk.

Changkyun blinks. “What?” 

“I'm kidding. You know, because Hyungwon speaks English, right?” 

Changkyun looks at Hyungwon, who blinks at him in return, the latter visibly confused as his younger cousin shakes his head, seemingly coming to his senses. “Yeah, you’re right. Hyungwon speaks English.” 

**Saturday, October 5, 23:39**

“Why don’t you ask him on a date?” 

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” 

Minhyuk raises his hands in mock-surrender. “Geez, someone’s moody.” 

“I’m not moody.” Hoseok replies with a chuckle. “You just haven’t stopped asking me since last week.” 

The following weekend, the boys gather to celebrate Jooheon’s twenty-fourth birthday. As expected, with very minimal planning, and invitations sent out through word of mouth and dropping messages in their various group chats, the boys and their extended social circle have crammed themselves into Jooheon’s small fifth floor apartment suite, pounding down shots and succumbing to irresponsible degrees of intoxication at the mercy of Changkyun and Kihyun. Hoseok watches them saunter from person to person, handing out shots of gin to anyone with a free hand - two shots if both hands are free. According to Changkyun, upon his request, Hyungwon brought with him to Seoul bottles of American liquor, the alcohol content of which astonishes Hoseok, who has grown accustomed to soju and beer, while in large bottles and cans, of comparatively low percentages.

The tolerance of Koreans, in Hoseok’s mind, is one of the best in Asia. But it pales heavily in comparison to that of an American’s. He wonders if, despite being only a fraction of his size, Hyungwon has the tolerance of an American. He has seen American comedy films, he’s seen the debauchery of college parties. 

“I’m just saying - now’s the perfect time to talk to him. We’re at a party, you’re both drinking, and if you ask him out and he’s not interested, you can play it off as being drunk.” Reasons Minhyuk, motioning with his hands. “Just saying.”

“It’s more complicated than just talking to him.” 

Minhyuk quirks his head. “How so?”

“Well, for one thing, there’s a language barrier.” 

“I thought you studied English for a bit in university.” 

“I did, but only as an elective. I gave up in my second year because it got too complicated for me. Besides,” On the other end of the apartment, as a consequence of having been found empty-handed, Hyungwon is given - _forced_ \- to consume two shots of gin by Changkyun. Hoseok watches him drink both within seconds of each other. To his surprise, the young man does not flinch or gag, merely scrunching his nose, visibly dissatisfied by the distinctly bitter flavor. “I can’t read him at all either. What if he isn’t interested in guys?”

“What if he is?”

“Even if he were, there’s still a chance he wouldn’t be into me. I’m probably not his type.”

Softly, Minhyuk nudges Hoseok’s arm encouragingly with his elbow. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. There’s a saying in America; they say _‘shoot your shot.’_ ” 

“What does that mean?” 

Minhyuk shrugs. “No clue. Changkyun’s been saying it to Hyungwon all week when we hang out. I think it’s supposed to be supportive. Like _‘just do it’_ or something. _Shoot your shot._ ”

“Did someone say _shots_?” Interrupts Kihyun in a raucous cry. With four disposable shot glasses of a suspiciously transparent substance Changkyun calls “ _moonshine”_ , he and Kihyun come across Hoseok and Minhyuk, who unknowingly accept; Hoseok taking one as he holds a can of Budweiser in his other, while Minhyuk, with two empty hands and an exceedingly heavy sigh, is provided two. 

An avid hater of hard liquor, regret burrows deep from within the base of Hoseok’s throat as the liquid scorches the sensitive lining of his esophagus. With tears flooding the corners of his eyes, Hoseok, instinctively, though admittedly counter-intuitively, takes a hearty sip of his beer in a sub-par attempt to override the horrendous flavor and burning in his throat. To his dismay, the two liquids blend across his delicate palette, leaving behind a mixture of moonshine with the nauseating linger of cheap, lukewarm beer - which, in his opinion, is still better than the liquor on its own. Minhyuk, with nothing to chase away his first shot (except his second shot), winces violently to Hoseok’s left, his handsome features wrinkled up in a harsh grimace whilst his body convulses, utterly revolted, much to the amusement of Kihyun and Changkyun, who tease him. Hoseok cannot help but release a chuckle. Even Minhyuk’s involuntary responses are explosive. 

“What the _hell_ is that?” Using the sleeve of his grey hoodie, Hoseok wipes away from the corners of his eyes a deluge of tears. 

“Moonshine.” Changkyun answers simply. Minhyuk and Hoseok discard their plastic shot glasses in a nearby garbage bin behind them. “Hyungwon brought it from America.” 

“Moonshine? Isn’t that stuff, like, seventy-percent alcohol?” Asks a concerned Minhyuk. The notion that alcohol could be so absurdly strong sickens as much as it astonishes Hoseok. He’d had Jack Daniels and tequila before. The first time he drank either of them, Hoseok was instantly repulsed; he’d never consumed something so potent before. 

Changkyun shrugs. “Some moonshine is. But I think the stuff Hyungwon brought is ninety percent?” 

As if on cue, Minhyuk rushes to the bathroom, gliding past a throng of girls in the hallway, and slamming the door behind him. Through the blaring hip-hop playing from Jooheon’s living room speakers, Hoseok grows nauseated by Minhyuk’s muffled gagging, coughing and hacking, on the verge of vomiting but unable to do so. 

“Man, he really is awful at taking shots.” Comments Changkyun.

**Sunday, October 6, 00:16**

“ _Hey, mind if we sit with you?_ ” 

Hyungwon glances away from his phone to glance up at Minhyuk through his dark bangs, nodding. He is seated on the left end of Jooheon’s red living room couch, a long leg crossed over the other, the extent at which he is slouching causes him to look much shorter than he is. For being as tall as he is, Hyungwon’s spindly anatomy permits him to collapse in on himself like a foldable chair. Minhyuk offers him a smile, which is returned by Hyungwon, bright though timid. “ _Yeah, sure_.”

 _“Thanks, man_.” 

Minhyuk takes the cushion on the far right, leaving Hoseok stranded between the two men. With shoulders as wide as his, arms broad with taut muscle, Hoseok forces himself to lean on Minhyuk’s side to allow Hyungwon more room to breath. The least a stranger can do is respect their personal bubble. Before Hoseok seizes the opportunity to check his phone for the time, Minhyuk is already running his mouth. 

“Talk to him. He’s right there. Now’s the perfect chance.” Whether he is speaking in English or Korean, Hoseok finds Minhyuk to be insufferable at times, no matter the language of choice. At least there is safety conversing in Korean when in Hyungwon’s presence. 

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“What am I supposed to say?” 

Minhyuk straightens in his seat, peering over Hoseok to catch a glimpse of Hyungwon scrolling down his phone with one hand, the other cradles his chin atop the sofa’s arm. Hoseok somewhat pities Hyungwon, alone and isolated due to a language barrier, surrounded by strangers who may or may not understand him and vice versa. 

“Just ask him out. He has his phone out - why don’t you try exchanging numbers?”

“It’s not that easy.” Replies Hoseok, sighing, shifting in his spot as Hyungwon does, allowing the latter more space to sit comfortably on the couch. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think you’re really cute and just my type. Can I get your number? Maybe we can grab coffee next week if you’re free?’” 

“Sounds about right to me.” He shakes his head at Minhyuk’s comment, unresponsive to the young man’s drunken laughter. “You forgot to mention your big dick.”

“Of course, how could I forget?” Hoseok says sarcastically, over dramatically. “How could I forget something _so_ big.”

“So you’re going to ask him out?”

“Nope.” 

A thoroughly supportive friend in the face of Hoseok’s romantic endeavors, Minhyuk grows too invested. Such a candid method of attack is not something that comes to Hoseok easily. He is not like Kihyun, who takes rejection without a slightest bruise to his ego; he’s not like Changkyun, who puts his most inner sentiments concisely and eloquently into words. 

“Hey, you, what are you doing sitting there? We’re doing shots. Get your butt over here.” Calls Changkyun from the kitchen. Hoseok averts his gaze from Minhyuk, turning over his shoulder to find Changkyun standing in the kitchen doorway, an intimidatingly large bottle of tequila in hand. Hoseok stands up as Changkyun continues, his words slurring together. “Come on, the least you can do is take a shot with me.”

“Fine, I’m coming. But this is the last shot I’m taking tonight. Someone has to drive you home.” Hoseok freezes in place, observing in tight silence as Hyungwon raises to his feet. _Since when did Hyungwon speak Korean?_

As Changkyun disappears behind the kitchen door, Hyungwon turns to Hoseok, whose eyes are wide, mouth agape. Smiling, Hyungwon motions towards Hoseok’s pocket. More specifically, his cellphone, which he unlocks and submits with a gulp. Opening Hoseok’s contact list, Hyungwon begins to enter his information, writing out his name with the Korean keyboard, only returning it after cheekily adding a turtle emoji at the end of his name and texting himself a greeting through Hoseok’s phone.

_[Lee Hoseok - 10/06 @ 00:28]: Hello_

“So, I hear I’m your type, hmm? Well, I’m free this Tuesday if you want to grab coffee.” Hyungwon grins, the way soft quirk of his thick lips is more than enough to weaken Hoseok’s locked knees. “Let me know if you’re free.” 

“I’m working Tuesday, but I should be in the evening.” Hoseok can barely form a coherent response through the pounding of his heart in his ears, and overwhelming embarrassment coursing through him. 

“Sounds good.” Hyungwon pauses, noticing the rigidness of Hoseok's raised shoulders. “If it's worth anything, you're just my type, too.” 

“Hyungwon, come take some motherfucking shots.” Changkyun hollers from the kitchen door raucously, his face as red as a tomato. In his inebriated frenzy, Changkyun stumbles backwards onto Jooheon, now clad in a birthday boy sash, who catches him with inhuman reflexes, covered in tequila originally poured for he and his cousin. 

“Looks like someone’s ready for bed.” Remarks Hoseok. 

“Yeah, looks like I should just take him home.” Hyungwon chuckles. “But, before I go, I’ve been curious about this since we were at the pub last week… is what Minhyuk said true?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure how he would know, but are you really as big as he says you are?”

Hoseok’s eyes widen, a flustered blush creeping up his neck, stretching to the tips of his hot ears. “I-I–” 

“Maybe you can show me sometime.” If smiles could kill, Hoseok is certain Hyungwon’s would discard him in a heartbeat. “See you Tuesday.”


End file.
